


Tell Me Something Sweet To Get Me By

by danceatthedisco



Series: Read My Mind [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, I don't think Zayn is even mentioned by name but just implied, Liam and Niall are barely mentioned in this, Louis can kind of read people's minds?, M/M, sorry :/ - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 02:48:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4330920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceatthedisco/pseuds/danceatthedisco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis can hear people's thoughts when they're directed at him. Usually the thoughts are bad, but one voice gets him through it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me Something Sweet To Get Me By

**Author's Note:**

> So Idek what this is. This could be so much better. But alas. 
> 
> I need to be up in three hours but I couldn't sleep and this is what happened. 
> 
> This is basically my first story, so yeah. Don't be too hard on me.

Louis is six. His mom walks him to school and drops him off with a kiss on his cheek, just like every day. Louis hears "I'm really gonna miss him. My baby." But when he looks up, his mom is looking away, as if she never even spoke. He shrugs it off and runs over to play with his friends. 

That afternoon after having to walk home from school when his mom didn't show up to walk him back, when his mom's car is missing from the drive, he remembers the words from this morning. 

"I'm really gonna miss him. My baby." He swears he heard those words, even if his mom didn't say them out loud. 

That night, when his dad returns home from work, looking worn down and sad, Louis contemplates those words from the morning again, still questioning the meaning, and why his mom still isn't home, where she could be. His dad offers Louis a sigh and a pat on his head, before retiring to his office to nurse a glass of scotch, the first of many to come. 

Louis is ten. He hasn't seen his mom in four years. He still remembers hearing "I'm really gonna miss him. My baby." He's long since felt the weight of those words, and is beginning to question what it meant that he heard them. 

He hears when his teacher hands back their spelling quizzes, their math tests, their science projects; shaking her head with a "he's just a slow learner, that's all. he can improve."

Louis knows she didn't say this aloud. But he heard it nonetheless. He KNOWS he did. 

Louis is thirteen. He's beginning to understand. These words he's hearing, they're thoughts. Other people's thoughts. But only when directed at him; about him. 

It never bothered him when he was younger. Kids change thoughts so quickly, never too keen to stay focused on one thing for too long. He never felt the full gravity of it. But now, when his dad moves him away from the only home he ever known. Away from the last place he ever saw his mom. "I'm really gonna miss him. My baby."

Louis realizes he has never once heard his dad's voice in his head. Not once since his mother left. 

Louis is fourteen. He's having trouble settling into his new house, his new school. His dad stays holed up in his study. New house, new study, new bottles of scotch to pass the time. 

There are new kids, kids he didn't grow up with, so he's not used to having their voices in his head. Not used to the harsh "what a fairy" and "little fag, no wonder his mother left him."

Louis is too stunned by the cruel thoughts to even wonder how they know about his mother. Or to wonder about the other voice. The voice with thoughts like "he's so beautiful" and "I hope he's okay". 

Louis is beginning to forget his mother. Not entirely. He could never actually forget his mom. But it's been eight years. All he's beginning to have left of her are those seven words she left him with. 

Louis is sixteen. It's been two years since they moved, yet he has no new friends. He can't settle down, can't seem to find anyone that doesn't offer pity in their thoughts. It's hard to find friends when you can hear their "wonder what's wrong with him that made his mom leave" from the kids he tries to sit with at lunch and their "he's cute enough, he should totally make my ex jealous" from the girls that come up to him. 

There are the nice thoughts too, don't get him wrong. The "such a nice boy" from his language teacher as he offers to hand out books, and the "definitely looks like he could have the skills for footie, wonder if he'll go out" that make him realize that not everyone is terrible. Just mostly everyone. 

But what confuses Louis the most are the thoughts he hears randomly throughout the school day. The "I wish I was brave enough to talk to him" and the "it's been two years, why doesn't he have friends yet. I would be his friend." Louis wants to know the owner of these thoughts, to tell them that Louis is no one special. No one worth being brave for, worth fighting his mind to keep friends. But Louis has never heard that voice out loud before, has no idea who it could be. 

Louis is seventeen when the bullying starts. He's quite lucky he reckons, to have made it this far without someone actually finding out and confirming what had, up until that point, been purely speculation. 

He just wanted a break. One night where he didn't have to wonder about why people thought those things of him, and why his dad still thought nothing of him, why it was always silence in his head as soon as he walked into his house. 

So Louis went down the street to the bar, hoping to just have a couple drinks, just enough to add a layer of fuzz to his brain, enough to block out everyone's thoughts, including his own. But when two drinks turned to five, turned to seven, Louis was way passed fuzzy. So when he heard how fit the bloke at the bar thought he was, Louis offered to buy him a drink, and then a blowjob in the bathroom. How was he supposed to know that the captain of the footie team would also be at the bar, eyes trained on him as he entered the bathroom only to exit looking absolutely debauched. 

So when Louis showed up to school the next day, hearing quite a few thoughts of "fag" and "disgusting queer" and "hope he doesn't come out for the footie team now" and okay that one hurt because, really that guy seemed quite nice before, but Louis doesn't know what happened. Why all of a sudden people are throwing these insults about his sexuality, which he kept quite hidden thank you. 

When the captain of the footie team walks by, slamming Louis into his locker in the process, and whispers in his ear "saw you at the bar last night, bet you're just a pro at getting down on your knees. fag" and accompanies the last word with a parting punch to his ribs, Louis knows. 

He's in too much pain, physical and emotional, to care this time about the "not him too, I really hoped they would just leave him alone" that passes through his head. 

School doesn't get better. Things change though. People become bolder, the insults directed at him as thoughts, are now thrown out loud. 

Louis's now glad of his choice to not make friends, to keep people at an arms length. It would have been too much for him, to hear how those thoughts would have changed when they found out he preferred boys over girls. 

He briefly wonders what his mom would think, before he pushes those thoughts away. She wouldn't care. She left him. He doesn't bother worrying about what his dad would think if he found out, they haven't had an actual conversation in years. Louis still has never heard his dad's voice in his head. He's stopped worrying about why that is, doesn't really care anymore as he prefers to spend his time alone in his room, his father in his study. 

Louis is lonely. This year has been dragging for him. It's mostly low points, fists thrown at him, insults directed at him. He's gotten used to it, the physical abuse. The mental abuse. It doesn't make it hurt less. 

His only bright points are what he has begun referring to as The Thoughts. Because they're the only ones that matter. The only ones that don't seem to be harsh and cruel these days. They don't come every day, those days are the hardest for Louis. 

But sometimes, sitting in math, he'll hear a "I really hope he's having a good day today". Louis looks around hoping to see anyone that matches that voice, the deep, smooth timbre that he's come to look forward to. But there's no one he recognizes. 

He'll be sitting in the cafeteria, alone as always, and hear a "wow that shirt really brings out his eyes. I didn't think they could look more beautiful." Louis blushes, can't believe that someone, that a guy, would find him beautiful. He glances around but doesn't find anyone who appears to be studying his shirt or his eyes. He still can't find the source of these thoughts, so the blush is short lived, brushes off the thoughts of beauty as a fluke. 

Louis is graduating. He couldn't be happier. He thinks this is the happiest day he's had since before his mom left. Before "I'm really gonna miss him. My baby." But he stops those thoughts right there. On this day, the happiest day of his life so far, he doesn't want to think of his mother who abandoned him or of his father who is happier with a bottle of scotch than with his son. Louis only wants to think of how he is escaping what has been his personal hell for the last year. 

He's lined up with his classmates. He still hears the occasional thoughts of "fag" and "fairy" and "gay boy" but most of his classmates are too preoccupied with graduation and after parties to give Louis much thought. He's okay with that. 

When Louis is sat down in the auditorium, waiting for the speakers, waiting to to receive his diploma, waiting to just finally be done with high school, he hears a "oh god he's in the front row, I really hope I don't mess up now, not in front of him, oh god."

Louis becomes frustrated. He's been hearing this voice ever since he was fourteen and he still doesn't know who it belongs too. Yes the constant thoughts of "I just want him to smile more" and "he's worth more than any of these people combined" and "oh god those pants are a gift from heaven. his ass looks delectable" (and okay that one did make Louis giggle and blush and forget the black eye that was forming that day. And if he happened to wear those red pants more often, well what of it) and "please be okay" did make him feel better, make him feel like someone was on his side. But not today. 

Today Louis just wants to go through the motions. He wants to get through this as quickly as possible, leave his classmates who he hopes to never see again, and figure out what to do with the rest of his life, preferably with as little human interaction as possible. 

He no longer cares about this voice of hope, because after today, Louis will probably never hear it again. So after hearing these thoughts and prayers to not mess up in front of him (and really Louis doesn't even know what to make of that because he still believes he's still no one special), Louis rolls his eyes and looks toward the stage, observing the three students sat up on it already, willing the ceremony to just start already. 

The principal comes up, runs through the notable school year (as always) and speaks of what a bright future they all have. Louis yawns, just wants it to be over. The principal then announces the valedictorian as he steps up to make his speech, but Louis isn't paying much attention, just thankful that one thought hasn't passed through his head this whole time throughout the ceremony. 

All of a sudden he hears it. The Voice. The Voice of The Thoughts. The Thoughts that, as much as he doesn't want to admit it, got him through this last year of school. Louis is entranced. Of course it's this kid, the valedictorian. No wonder he never figured it out, they never shared many classes together and when they did, Louis never heard him talk. Louis was never around him much in the cafeteria, never even saw him there really, so of course he could never trace The Thoughts to him. 

He decides to actually tune into his speech; listen to the voice, after hearing in his head for so long, speak out loud. 

"... from playgrounds and spaghetti, we've come so far." And wait, what. Louis wishes he'd been paying attention the whole time, because he has no idea how spaghetti comes in to play here. 

"I spent a lot of time with my nose buried in books, a lot of my time studying, so much that Liam and Niall instated a rule that no text books were allowed at lunch." His classmates laugh as he gestures to the other two students sat on stage, the salutatorian and class president, who Louis assumes are Liam and Niall. Louis doesn't really recognize the boys or the names, just as he didn't really recognize the boy talking, still doesn't know his name. 

"So durning lunch, the time of banned books and no studying, I observed. I observed groups of friends discussing what the big party was this weekend, groups of teammates reviewing plays for the next game, a lonely boy with sad eyes who was always by himself." And again, wait what. Louis has no idea that this boy was actively observing him. 

"I saw what shaped these people, what high school has carved for them. And as we leave today, I just want to say this: high school is not who we are. We can move on from the next party, win the next game. We can be more than that. High school has helped mold us, but now it is up to us to fill in the mold or break it. We can be who we want to be, we don't have to have sad eyes forever. Thank you." He waves and steps back, walking towards his seat on the stage. 

Louis sits dumbfounded, a little embarrassed that after all that his first thought is 'do I really have sad eyes.' But then the weight of the speech catches up to him and he's still processing as the principal comes up and says "another round of applause for our valedictorian Harry Styles."

Harry. Harry Styles. Louis lets the name wash over his thoughts, the name of the boy who thought nothing but kindness to him. He focuses on this name through the rest of the ceremony, through the handshakes, through the diplomas, through the exiting march.

And then he's outside with the rest of the graduates. His mom's not there, she abandoned him. His dad's not there, probably too busy in his study with that ever present bottle of scotch. But he's there. Harry. 

And Louis does something new. Something different. Something he hasn't done in so long. He decides that maybe not everyone has to be kept an arms length away.

Louis walks over to Harry, he's standing with three other boys: Liam and Niall, Louis's brain supplies, and then another boy, this one tan, but still one Louis doesn't quite recognize. But still. 

He reaches out and taps Harry on his shoulder. He braces for the negative thoughts that are no doubt coming. But all he hears in his mind as Harry turns around is a "oh my gosh he's actually here I can't believe it what do I say to him oh my god" and out loud hears a "hi! I'm Harry. I don't think we've actually met before?" as Harry extends his hand. And Louis takes it. And offers a quiet "hi I'm Louis" and hears a "his voice sounds even nicer than anything I could have ever imagined" and Louis smiles as Harry blushes. 

More of Harry's thoughts about Louis's voice and eyes and smile and hair run through his head, Louis is thankful but very much overwhelmed. He likes Harry's thoughts but he wants clarity, he needs his mind to stop racing with them. 

So Louis gets up on his tiptoes and quickly presses his lips to Harry's, this boy who, in many ways, saved him. The thoughts stop and Louis exhales a sigh of relief. Harry blushes more but offers a quiet "wow thanks?" and Louis smiles again, just in awe of this boy who is so purely, genuinely nice. He interlaces his fingers with Harry's and responds with a "no Harry, thank you."

Louis is eighteen. His mother left him with seven words, his father doesn't think of him at all, but he has Harry. And Harry thinks of him every morning when he wakes up and every night before he goes to bed and really, that's all Louis needs.

**Author's Note:**

> so if this doesn't suck too bad, I might post a sequel/a version from Harry's perspective? idk idk.


End file.
